


Character Study-John, Part II

by iwtv



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Comments appreciated, M/M, after season 2, dealing with Silver's handicap and character development, my first fic in third person subjective, part of Character Studies, trying to wean myself off of James and Thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silver hesitates. After a ripe pause he admits that Flint was right back in Nassau. There was nowhere else in the world where he would matter, and that was his problem all along....Flint pretends to frown at him, but it is a smiling frown, and their eyes meet. Silver finds himself paralyzed by the gaze.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Character Study-John, Part II

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at semi-prose; this is actually the eighth piece of my character studies, which began as glimpses into each major characters' mindset and I ended up with this piece that's actually less prose and more story.

~~

He is awakened by creaking wood, the sound louder than the soft groans of the ship around him. The door creaks shut again. It is Flint. He shakes off the cobwebs of sleep and sits up on the window seat. It still feels strange to only use one leg to push himself up on. Even so, he has yet to feel the phantom pain.

Flint brings a plate of meat and bread and sits it on the edge of his desk. He gestures at Silver’s leg, asks him about it. Silver replies that the pain is greatly lessened today. He complains of his seat, however, and jests he will forget how to walk altogether if he does not leave it soon.

Flint moves to grab the crutch Dr. Howl has left. It awaits a master, leaning against the stern wall. Silver dismisses it, insisting he wants to stand on his own first. His eyes look up expectantly to Flint. Flint slowly offers his hand. Silver takes it, clutching on to his forearm. He swings his leg over and Flint pulls him up. His footing falters and his other arm jerks out behind him to brace against the wall. Flint’s arm, however, has also shot out and has caught Silver by his back, palm pressing flat against him.

Silver lets out a laugh, teeth flashing, trying to hide how foolish he feels. Flint offers a smile under his ginger beard. His hand lingers on Silver’s back, longer than it should and they both notice. Flint’s eyes drop completely away from his face and he retracts the hand, stepping back.

Silver takes a small hop forward and gets a better grip on the edge of the stern wall, standing straight. He sighs with relief. The ship makes its usual lumbering dance over the water, and Silver is forced to shift his foot ever so slightly this way and that, off balance. He mutters curses but still refuses the crutch. Flint gingerly tells him there is no shame in it, that he will walk as well as he ever did in time.

Silver worries the men will not respect him if he is weakened. Flint reminds him they already knew his leg was lost when he was voted quartermaster. Then he asks Silver why he did it, why he chose to risk his life instead of falling back on betrayal.  
Silver hesitates. After a ripe pause he admits that Flint was right back in Nassau. There was nowhere else in the world where he would matter, and that was his problem all along. At least here, he could fit in. It seemed to make the prospect of being an honest man worth pursuing, he adds with a repentant smirk.

Flint pretends to frown at him, but it is a smiling frown, and their eyes meet. Silver finds himself paralyzed by the gaze. Flint’s eyes, he confesses to himself, are quite beautiful; two pieces of jade stuck into a hardened stretch of stoicism, though Silver suspects the look Flint gives off is well practiced.

Flint makes to leave him to his meal, but Silver stops him. He beckons Flint to him, tone casual. Flint asks if he needs another blanket, a change of clothes, perhaps. Silver shakes his head. He reaches out and softly touches Flint’s arm, fingers tugging at his shirt. Flint glances down, then up at Silver, brows furrowed in their questioning.

Silver tugs harder, wrapping a fist into the cloth. After a second of resistance Flint’s feet follow the motion and he is up against him. Still he pushes back, looking at Silver with a blend of suspicion and panic in his jade eyes. Silver takes special note of the panic. 

He tells Flint he wants to try something and before Flint can stop him Silver tugs him into a kiss, his soft lips pressed against lips he finds to be equally—and deliciously—as soft.

Flint lets out a muffled cry and breaks away. The panic dances around plainly in his features yet he does not move himself away from Silver. Heart pounding like a drum, Silver launches a second assault, capturing his lips once more.

Again Flint makes a sound and pulls back, though this time his hand has risen to capture Silver’s jaw. He holds him there, his touch firm yet yielding, gazing into his face for the breadth of a few heartbeats.

Silver freezes, unable to read the expression on the pirate captain’s face. Is he angry? Furious? Or something else? Silver begins to stutter out an apology. He has overstepped his bounds for the last time. Surely now Flint will have his head…

Flint’s lips press against his own of their own volition. 

He presses hard, until Silver’s lips part and Flint’s tongue snakes inside his mouth. Silver moans as the warm and slippery thing slides eagerly along his mouth. Flint’s grip on his jaw relaxes and becomes as silk, sliding down to the curve of his neck, thumb touching his collarbone.

Silver opens his mouth wide, becoming greedy. He will take whatever Flint gives him, he thinks, even as he struggles to overcome his astonishment that Flint is giving him anything at all.

Flint’s hands roam further, straying to reach under Silver’s shirt and travel over the hard, well chiseled contours of his stomach and chest muscles. They remained locked to each other, with Silver leaning against the stern wall, for long minutes. 

Silver uses the opportunity to explore Flint for the first time. He tugs Flint’s shirt out of his belt and urges it over his head. Flint takes it off and lets Silver stare unabashedly at his own hardened chest. Flint is much broader than Silver, with thicker arms and torso, yet he is just as fit. Silver’s hands trace the outline of old scars here and there, of the round one high on his chest where he was shot during the mutiny.

Silver bends forward and kisses it.

This earns him a set of fingers winding their way through his hair, pulling gently. He travels further down Flint, kissing and caressing his stomach, down past his bellybutton. His hands move to unfasten his belt and pants. He looks up at Flint, silently seeking permission. Flint pushes Silver’s jet black hair away from his face in answer. Silver notices the jade eyes have grown soft and heavy and black. 

Silver shudders and pulls down Flint’s tight-fitting trousers. Flint’s erection bobs in front o f him and Silver’s breath catches at the sight of it. 

Then the ship shifts too far to one side under him and he stumbles, nearly toppling over. Once again Flint’s hands are there, latching on to him and holding him up. Silver curses loudly. He hates this, hates this now, when things between the two of them have taken such a turn…

Flint, patient as Silver has ever seen him, turns so that Silver can lean against the side of his desk instead, using it to offset his missing balance.

Still feeling embarrassed, Silver avoids his gaze, feeling foolish again. Flint gently lowers him to his knee. He cups his chin and lifts his face. With his other hand he pulls on his erection. His eyes are still full of desire, letting Silver know nothing has changed.

Relief floods through him and Silver takes hold of Flint’s scrotum first, pulling and kneading it. Flint lets out a small groan, hand racking through Silver’s hair in encouragement. Silver uses his other hand to ply Flint’s shaft, eliciting another groan. He strokes it, keeping his lips mercilessly just out of reach. Flint pushes on the back of his head but Silver resists, looking up at him with a devilish grin.

Finally Silver takes him down, running his lips very slowly over Flint’s head and halfway over his shaft. He dances his tongue around Flint’s sensitive tip and Flint has to throw a hand against the wall for support. His other hand absently massages Silver’s hair. Silver pulls off him and licks his tip teasingly. He listens to Flint begin to pant and it sends a thrill through his own groin to hear it.

He takes Flint down again, further this time but not quite to his scrotum. He sets up a pace of stroking him with his mouth, then removing his lips altogether to lick here and there. 

All the while Flint lets him know what he likes best, responding with either a squeeze of his hair or a moan from the back of his throat.

Then Flint leans more heavily against the side of the desk, pulling Silver with him. Silver scoots up on his knee, mouth never quite losing contact from Flint’s erection. Flint rests his hands on either side of Silver’s head and begins gently thrusting into his mouth. A wave of heat floods Silver’s senses. He looks directly in front of him and appreciates, for the first time, the shape and feel of Flint’s thighs and buttocks. He reaches around and grabs them, squeezing them and pushing on them to further encourage Flint’s thrusts.

Flint slows down and rasps out he does not want to hurt him.

The words affect Silver more than he thought they would; they shock him in a sense. Flint’s tone sounds so…

Loving.

Silver caresses his thighs and kisses the tip of his cock in response. He whispers that he wants Flint to come into his mouth.

With that he takes his captain down again, much more swiftly this time now that he is slick with Silver’s mouth. He senses Flint’s body tense; his breaths are coming shorter and shorter. He is near the brink.

Silver pulls down on his scrotum as his mouth works his shaft, and Flint is positively panting, trying in vain to hold in the small sounds that rise to the back of his throat.

At last he lets out a strangled sound and shoots his seed into Silver’s waiting mouth. Silver relishes the feeling. He sucks the tip of Flint hard, hand coming up to continue the stroking while the last of Flint’s seed streams into his mouth. Silver swallows it all.

When it is done Flint helps him to his feet and immediately kisses him again. Silver inquires about the experience. Flint tells him he was well pleased, as Silver should be able to tell. They exchange smiles, with much more ease than before.

Silver turns somber and admits he had not expected such a reception from Flint. Flint cocks his head, unsure of his meaning. Silver tells him he was referring to the tenderness, that he had never expected Flint to be a tender lover.

Flint’s gaze grows distant and troubled to Silver and he worries he has said something wrong. Flint tells him he has not; he has only reminded him of someone he once knew. He says vaguely that it was he who taught Flint how be tender.

Silver does not inquire further, sensing that the subject is something the other man does not wish to discuss further.

Flint changes their conversation by walking over to the window seat and Silver’s nest of blankets there. He climbs into it, propping himself up against the side and beckons for his quartermaster to join him. Silver does so, this time allowing Flint to help him into his lap without fussing. He rests his rump between Flint’s thighs, their legs stretched out together. He relaxes his back over Flint’s broad and still-bare chest. Their heads rest aside one another’s.

They talk about this and that, about Vane and Eleanor and finally the gold.

Silver’s muscles tense when Flint mentions the word ‘gold’ and he hopes Flint does not notice.

He feels rotten from the inside, rotten in a way he has never felt in his life. He was fully prepared to keep his part in the betrayal a secret. Fully prepared. That was before this day. Before Flint had come to him. Before Flint had shocked him with his own admission of feelings.

And it was before Silver realized he had fallen in love.

He could not, would not, keep a thing of such importance from Flint, and he makes up his mind to tell him, right now. He realizes it will probably mean Flint will hate him, reject him at the very least. Probably kill him at the most.

He realizes all these things yet something new and deep within him stirs him to confess regardless, because of the tiny, miniscule chance that Flint might somehow forgive him.

Captain Flint, who had just shown him an entirely different part of himself, who had all but admitted to loving another man, who had just shown Silver such warmth and care that Silver is willing to risk his eternal wrath to hope for it to return again.

After all, what was the point of fitting into a new life here if he had to continue doing it alone?

So Silver sits up and twists around to look at him. He braces himself, sucking in a breath, and tells Flint he has a confession to make.

 

End.


End file.
